


Everybody Wants A Taste

by Happilysunlight (sunlight)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Canon Compliant, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Halloween, Jealousy, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5360750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlight/pseuds/Happilysunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' leaning backwards, belly up, his wrists bent in imitation of paws. The little cat ears he’s wearing and the whiskers Harry had helped him draw on earlier are just the start, this position doing so much more to make it realistic. James looks too comfortable, a hand stroking Louis’ stomach while Louis just giggles.</p><p>Aka Louis in a cat costume and James Corden's lap feat. Jealous!Harry!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Wants A Taste

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Jealous by Nick Jonas. Thank you to [J](http://www.paynner.tumblr.com), [Lexi](http://www.idareyoutotakealook.tumblr.com), [Leslie](http://www.hazandlouwho.tumblr.com), Chloe, and Megan for reading this and essentially being last minute betas before I posted it. And thank you to [Steph](http://www.thephysicsofstandingstill.tumblr.com), Lexy, and Kat for being the most encouraging. [Come visit me on tumblr!](http://www.happilysunlight.tumblr.com)
> 
> Quick note on the tags, the d/s isn't too intense and it's all done with safety precautions put into place. I just wanted to clarify that the sex gets a little rough and that Louis could be verging on subspace! Shoot me a message if you want any more info!

Louis is sitting on James’ lap. He’s leaning backwards, belly up, his wrists bent in imitation of paws. The little cat ears he’s wearing and the whiskers Harry had helped him draw on earlier are just the start, this position doing so much more to make it realistic. James looks too comfortable, a hand stroking Louis’ stomach while Louis just giggles.

“Louis, cats don’t laugh!” James says. Louis’ response is to wrap his arm around James’ shoulders and let out another high pitched cackle, eyes scrunching up with his smile. His face is a little red, probably from all of the drinks he’s had tonight.

They’re all sitting and laughing, and the other boys are sending Harry covert glances from the couch, as if they’re worried what his response will be. But Nope. Harry is Not. Jealous.

Nope. He’s done being jealous. After five years of being together, countless proposals and commitments to each other for the rest of their lives, matching tattoos, co-owned properties and joint bank accounts, he’s not jealous. He knows that at the end of the day he’s the one who gets to curl up with Louis for ever and ever, not anyone else. Certainly not James, whose wife, Julia, is literally sitting right there. His wife with whom he has two children.

So no, he’s not jealous.

“James, it’s like you’re a Bond villain!” Liam exclaims, excitement lacing his voice. “Niall, Ni, you do a good Bond. Do it.”

“Nah, Liam, I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” he responds, glancing back to lock eyes with Harry momentarily. Bless Niall.

“No, wait, he’s right, this is perfect. Liam, here. Take a video, it’ll be like,” James shuffles Louis around in his lap, rearranging him so he’s more upright. “Okay, I’m the villain with a cat on his lap. Niall, you walk in and I’ll turn.”

“How’re you going to turn with him in your lap, though?” Niall asks, still clearly hesitant about the whole idea.

Liam’s got his phone out though, and is already pointing the camera to James and Louis.

“Niall, go stand there and then walk over like you’re Bond,” he says, directing the whole scene around him.

“I’m not even dressed as Bond, these costumes don’t work together,” he says, pointing down at his Despicable Me minion costume, or as anyone else would call it, Niall’s excuse to wear overall short shorts.

Niall reluctantly stands and walks out of the frame, and then when Liam points to him he comes in, still with a look on his face like he’d rather do anything than face the potential wrath of Harry.

“Bond. I’ve been expecting you,” James says, and he’s petting Louis’ stomach. Like, actual full pets from his neck to the top of his jeans, none of the fake stuff from moments ago.

Harry’s blood pressure is rising by the moment. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take. They all look ridiculous; none of their costumes match the scene they’re putting on, none but Louis, of course, who is wrapped in skin tight black clothes to match the ears and whiskers.

“Well, well, well,” Louis says, and Harry’s heart almost forgives James for holding Louis like that, because it’s given him this. Louis is adorable in any situation, but Louis as a talking cat is almost worth this jealousy.

“Louis, again with the personification! Cats don’t talk!” Liam says, cutting the recording and gesturing for Niall to walk back again. “Let’s do it one more time.”

And they do it again, Louis staying silent this time, but still sending a glare that’s too human-like for a cat to Niall when he walks over.

And then Louis licks his hand, like a cat licking its paw. Somehow the lick is incredibly sensual, and he’s still looking right at Niall when he does it. Alright. This is finished right now.

“Louis.” He’s standing in front of them, having taken the few long strides across the room to stare down at James with his most threatening look. He doesn’t even spare a glance at Louis, just continues to try to inspire fear in James’ heart. “A word, please.”

Louis silently gets up from his lap, reaches a hand out and takes Harry’s. Harry looks around the room and tries to be as menacing as possible as he leads Louis away from everyone.

The second they’re behind the closed door to their bedroom, he pushes Louis toward the bed. He checks to make sure there aren’t any stray clothes or hangers or anything that could hurt his back before hoisting him up onto the edge. He’s rough but still gentle with Louis, knows that he enjoys to be thrown around, but needs to check in with him before he takes it up a notch.

“Lou,” he says, a stern edge to his voice.

“Harry, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he begins, bringing his hands up to Harry’s bare chest where his shirt is unbuttoned.

“Louis, I’m not upset with you, baby. I could never be mad at you,” he responds, melting against the feeling of Louis’ hands rubbing his skin. “You’re perfect. It was James,” his voice is lower just with the mention of his name. “Acting like he owned you, holding you down and rubbing your stomach.”

Harry rucks up Louis’ shirt roughly, dragging his other hand against his stomach, pinching both of his nipples.

Louis gasps, his mouth opening wide and head falling back, allowing Harry to have access to his neck. He brings his hands up to the base of his neck, cupping his fingers gently around the column.

“Maybe we should get you a collar, a nice little tag that says who you belong to?” He suggests. “What do you say?”

“Er, Haz, I’m not-” Louis looks like he couldn’t want anything less than a collar around his neck. Five years ago, Harry would have stopped in his tracks, retreated to a guest bedroom, hidden under the covers. But it’s not five years ago and this isn’t the first time Louis’ said no to something. Harry’s said no thanks plenty of times as well. “I don’t think that’s something, er,” he continues.

“Lou, it’s cool,” he laughs. “I’m not, ah. Super into it either,” he says, taking his hands to pull Louis’ jeans and pants down in one swoop. “I just thought it was thematically appropriate,” Louis giggles in response, and kicks away his jeans with his feet while Harry bends down to kiss his lower stomach. “I’m perfectly good with letting them know you’re mine just like this.”

He flips Louis suddenly, and lands a smack against Louis’ arsecheek. It’s soft enough that it won’t sting tomorrow if Louis wants to stop now. But it’s usually a pretty safe bet that when it comes to Louis, spanking is on the menu.

Not to say that he’d keep going without getting a go ahead. So he waits, massaging the area with his palm.

“Harry, please,” Louis whimpers. His voice sounds shot already. “More, Haz.”

Now knowing that Louis wants this just as much as he does, Harry squeezes his cheeks with both hands, spreads them a bit, and lets them fall back into place. Louis’ arse is truly the 8th wonder of the world. It is round, pert, and the prettiest pink that he’s ever seen. It’s even prettier when there are red marks from his hands. Prettier still when there’s wetness running down the crack, fingers pumping in and out of him, a cock spreading him wide.

He lands another smack across the center of his two cheeks, landing right on his hole. Louis’ entire body spasms, and he braces himself on his entire forearms instead of just his hands to get more leverage. As soon as Harry can tell he’s propped up comfortably, two more smacks follow, one on each cheek. He’s hitting hard, this time hard enough that Louis will likely avoid sitting down until it’s better.

“Do you like it, Lou?” He asks, alternating massaging and smacking him with lighter hits to each cheek. “When you get back out there you won’t be able to sit back down, certainly not on James’ lap, right?”

“Ah, Harry!” Louis’ voice has climbed upward, significantly higher than his normal speaking voice. “Haz, never, I’m sorry,” he continues.

“Lou, I just need to remind them who you belong to, don’t I?”

“Always you, H. Always,” he pants. “For the rest of our lives.”

Harry bends down to press a kiss against the spots he can tell are going to be the sorest, the ones with small bruises already blooming. He laps his tongue on them and slowly trails his way to Louis’ crack. Not wanting to give away his goal quite yet, he crosses over to the other cheek and presses bites into the already bruising skin. Louis lets out the breathiest noise at that, little “Ah”s that climb in pitch with each bite.

After he’s bitten probably a few too many bruises into the already red skin, he goes back to his prize and presses a wet kiss on Louis’ arsehole.

“Harry, ah, I need you.” He’s pressing his hips back against Harry’s face, and he stays there hovering for a bit, not meeting the pressure, refusing to give Louis what he wants. After watching Louis desperately rut against nothing, it’s too much.

He surges forward, wrenches Louis’ cheeks apart with both hands, and laps at his hole incessantly. It tastes like sweat, and of course no one likes the taste of arsehole, but he must say he appreciates it quite a lot. There’s something about the taste, that even though it might not be Amazingly Fresh Mint or a comparable flavor, even though it’s a dark taste sort of on the weird side, it’s still the most enjoyable thing. Harry revels in the experience, in the way that his tongue can make Louis shake like this.

He works his tongue against the tight ring of muscles, edging them open to allow him to plunge inside. It’s hard to go much further than about half of an inch, especially without any lube or preparation. Louis hasn’t had anything in him since at least yesterday morning. At least not that Harry’s been there for. This morning it was Harry who was woken up with a blowjob under the covers, one which quickly turned into Harry riding Louis up against the headboard while Louis pinched his nipples and eventually made him come untouched.

Louis is writhing on his front now, grinding his hips against Harry’s face, and he knows that there’s saliva dripping down his chin. He’s hyper aware of all of the clothes they’re both still wearing, and he’s pressed with the need to be naked immediately.

“Off, Louis,” he says, tugging at the sweater that’s ridden up his back. “Get it off.”

Louis sits up on his knees and tugs at the collar on his sweater; pulling off the shirt he’d had on underneath as well, and throwing the bundle of clothes to the ground by the bed.

Harry’s working on his own costume and he’s getting stuck in the tight sleeves. Pirate, while easy to pull off with his hair, lends too many layers to allow for a quick and easy release. Louis reaches up to help him, and when he’s finally out of his clothes, he grabs Louis and kisses him. It’s a closed mouth kiss, not wanting to make Louis taste too much of his arsehole, but it’s still intimate and loving.

He reaches up to Louis face and strokes his thumbs against his jawline, keeping their foreheads pressed together his eyes closed.

When he pulls back to keep going with getting Louis prepped, he notices the cat ears are gone. And suddenly he needs them back.

“Haz, what’s wrong?” He must have noticed the look on his face.

“No, Lou. Nothing. Just,” he trails off, disentangling himself from their embrace. “One second,” he continues, and jumps off the bed to look for the sweater. The headband must have come off when he pulled it over his head.

“Ah-hah!” he grins, pulling the ears out from the pile of clothing and standing back up. His knees crick, and it’s all a bit painful, but he jumps up and grabs the lube from the drawer as well.

He throws them down on the duvet next to Louis, and when he notices what he brought back up, his eyes go wide.

“Harry,” he practically purrs, and isn’t that appropriate, given the situation. “I see what’s going on here now,” Louis reaches over to grab them and snaps them back on his head, doesn’t even need to double check, so in tuned with Harry’s actions that he just knows.

He reaches over to grab Louis and pull him onto his lap, mirroring the way that James had been holding him earlier. Louis smiles with understanding, and he looks at Harry knowingly with his bedroom eyes.

He doesn’t know if this is a thing or if it’s just a thing because it’s Halloween and Louis had pretended to be a cat in James’ lap. It’s probably the latter, but it’s still a thing right now and it’s all he can think about.

“Mine,” he all but growls out, pulling Louis closer to him. Louis puts his arm around his shoulder and brings the other up to his face, sending a questioning glance before he goes any further. Harry nods, and when Louis licks the back of his hand, his cock twitches against Louis’ arse in his lap. “Louis, you’re all mine.”

Louis nudges his head into Harry’s shoulder, like he’s asking to be pet. Harry remembers the way James had been stroking his chest, and quickly moves his left hand to do the same. He starts at his neck, brings his hand across his chest slowly, and comes to a stop at the base of his cock. It’d be so easy for him to just start tugging on it, work him up a bit. But he holds himself back.

He returns his hand to Louis neck and keeps petting him languishly, slowly from his neck to his nipples, tweaking them and enjoying the high-pitched noises Louis is emitting.

Louis is writhing in his lap, and it’s doing nothing to calm the hardness of his own cock. Not that he wants it to calm down, but he had more plans for Louis that he’s now going to skip over in favor of pressing inside of him as soon as possible.

“Harry, please, touch me,” Louis begs.

“Okay, kitten.” Louis lets in a sharp intake of breath at that, and Harry's worried this is getting weird, that it's too far, too close to something neither of them are interested in, when Louis brings him back from it  all by taking over and straddling his legs.

“Haz, H. Please. I'm begging you,” he says, and he's rubbing himself against Harry's stomach incessantly, like he can't help but rut to get some friction.

Harry reaches down and wraps a hand around his cock, and with the other he grapples around the blankets for the lube. Louis is still rutting, his pace impossible to follow with no true rhythm. He's letting out sounds that Harry can only describe as mewls, and even though he hates that word, hates it so much, it's achingly accurate.

When he grasps around the lube, finally, he flicks the cap open with his one hand as inconspicuously as possible to keep Louis from noticing what he's doing. He manages to get a generous dollop on the pads of his first fingers, and he reaches them around Louis to prod at his entrance.

Louis jumps at that, lets out an “Ah!” that's so arousing to Harry, and quickly settles back down, relaxing his muscles and pressing back on the fingers. Harry tries to take one away, make it easier for Louis, but he downright growls at him, and he puts his second finger back next to the first.

“You sure, Lou?” He asks.

“When am I ever unsure? I know what can fit inside of me,” he responds, edging himself down onto Harry's fingers.

And this is the best part, really. Harry may have just been spanking him, taking control, and Louis is about to be fucked ten ways from Sunday, but here they are switching who's in control, giving and taking in an effortless, seamless transition. They've grown so used to what the other needs that meeting that need with barely any clarification required.

Louis has worked his way flush against the base of Harry's fingers and is corkscrewing his hips to make Harry's fingers press against him, so close to his prostate but not quite there. He huffs, clearly frustrated, and spreads his legs wider. “Harry,” he says, and that's all the cue he needs.

He lifts--well, manhandles, more like--Louis up off of his lap and sets him on his back, grabbing a pillow for underneath his hips all the while keeping his two fingers firmly inside of him, still moving around, feeling for his prostate but not quite hitting it. And this time it's on purpose, trying to keep Louis on edge.

Once Louis is situated he grabs the lube again to get his other fingers ready. Louis is laying there, cat ears lopsided and whiskers almost completely smudged away.

Harry makes quick work of scissoring his fingers and getting the rest in, still teasing Louis by avoiding the spot he's trying to help him hit. Louis is letting out a near constant stream of “Harry, please, more, now, Haz, I need-” and it's riling Harry up. He tilts Louis onto his side and smacks against his bum, watching Louis’ entire body be wracked with shakes.

“Love, you want more? What do you need more of?” he asks.

“Unh-Haz, please. Spank me again?”

“You want more? Even though you're already so red and sore?” By god, he wants to keep doing that but needs to make sure Louis wants it.

“Yes, H. Please, please please please. I know you'll take good care, uh, of me. Just please, I need-”

He's twisted Louis back around fully while somehow managing to keep his fingers inside, and starts back up his relentless pace of in and out and all around as soon as Louis starts grinding down against the pillow.

His smacks land on  the parts of his cheeks that look the leastred, but honestly there aren't many left. He's trying to hit softly, just to be the presence that he knows Louis is aching for, this reminder that he belongs to him, that they belong to each other.

When his wrist is feeling sufficiently cramped and Louis is writhing with no sense of mind, he takes his fingers out and wipes them quickly on a tissue from the bedside table.

Louis has noticed the change but hasn't said anything, still just moving his own hips against the pillow for the friction against his own cock. He seems pretty far gone.

“Lou, honey. Are you still with me? Do you still want me to fuck you?”

“In. In me now, H. N-now,” he gets out, stumbling over the words.

Harry finishes off lubing himself up and positions himself against Louis’ hole. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Lou, babe. Color?” He asks, one last time just to make sure.

“Green, Harry, fuck me now!” Louis cocks his hips back suddenly and Harry's dick finds itself buried two inches inside of Louis, who lets out an immediate sigh that sounds like pain, relief, and arousal all at once.

Louis presses back further, urging Harry to fuck into him deeper, and Harry can barely move. The tightness around his dick is not a new thing by any means. He knows how Louis feels inside and out, but every time he finds himself enveloped in the tight, wet heat of Louis’ arse, he starts to lose his head.

Harry cants his hips ever so slightly, wanting to pick up the pace but not wanting to push Louis too far. Louis sinks back, pushing Harry’s cock into him to the hilt. He’s nearly squirming, trying not to move too soon. Then he feels Louis pull off of him, slowly but surely, before pushing back with force.

And they’re off. Like track runners at the starting line of 50 meter sprint, the pace is immediately set to a blinding speed. He hopes it’ll last slightly longer than a 50 meter sprint, but their laps around the track prior to this point have been rushed and the arousal and tension has been raising quickly.

Harry grasps the skin of Louis’ hips and takes over, pounding into him and not allowing Louis an opinion in edgewise. He’s pushing back, still trying to meet the pace, but it’s clear he’s tiring out and won’t have the energy to keep going like this if he’s putting in as much effort as he has been.

Louis’ thrusts backward slow to a stop, and soon it’s just Harry pounding into him, and Louis letting out sounds of appreciation that don’t have any intelligible meaning.

Heat pools in his gut, and though it’s only been minutes since he first pressed into Louis, he knows it’s not going to last much longer. His hips slow and he allows himself to think about the way his cock is being enveloped in heat with every thrust, lets himself fall into the feeling of tightness surrounding him.

The moment he hits Louis’ prostate right on is clear; Louis’ hips stutter back into motion and he uses the little energy he has left to thrust himself back against Harry. The two continue, and Harry knows he’s close.

“Lou, ah, babe. I need. I’m so close,” he pants out, his breaths coming short and quick. Louis mimics his corkscrew from earlier against Harry’s fingers and twists his hips against the cock deep inside of him, and he shudders at the feeling of his prostate being stimulated.

“H, oh, god,” Louis says, and it’s the first words that make sense since Harry pushed his cock inside of him. Louis has reached a hand between himself and the pillow and is very clearly jerking himself off. “Babe, come in me, please?”

And really that’s all it takes, because Harry is such a sucker for Louis’ bedroom voice. He can feel their near simultaneous orgasms, Louis spilling over the bed and onto himself, and Harry’s cock shooting into the clenching and un-clenching confines of Louis’ arse.

Harry pulls himself out slowly, careful not to aggravate Louis’ bum, and wipes himself and Louis down with a few tissues.

Louis is blissfully fucked-out. His whiskers are almost completely just black smudges on his cheeks, so Harry goes to the en suite to grab makeup remover, their special Vitamin E lotion, and a wet flannel to wash him down. When he gets back with everything, he coaxes Louis to a sitting position and peppers his face with kisses.

“Lou, lovely, you were so wonderful,” he starts, voice soft. “Can you come back to me, love?” He pours the remover onto a tissue and begins to rub it gently over Louis’ cheeks. The eyeliner is usually quite stubborn to come off, but after being smudged around his face, it lifts easily. Louis still has his eyes closed and is leaning into Harry’s touch.

When he’s happy with Louis’ cheeks, he brings the flannel to his stomach and wipes up the remainder of the come that he didn’t get with the first few tissues. He wipes in soft circular motions, careful to avoid tugging his skin in a painful way. Louis blinks his eyes open and smiles at Harry, finally coming back down.

“Hi love,” Harry says, welcoming him back.

“Hi H,” he responds, reaching out for the flannel. Harry passes it over and Louis rotates himself to his stomach. He cleans his own arse, not the type to let Harry wipe his bum.

Harry reaches for the tub of lotion and scoops out a large bit to slather on Louis’ cheeks. There are already some nice bruises from where he pressed bites into the already tender slap-marks. He doesn’t want tomorrow to be any more difficult than it already will be, so he massages the lotion lightly all over his arse and onto his lower back.

Harry ends up being coaxed into giving Louis a back rub, which he pretends to be annoyed about, but truly, he enjoys doing anything that makes Louis happy. When he’s sufficiently loose and relaxed, Louis sits up and goes to tug back on his costume.

“Woah, Lou, what are you doing?”

“Harry, there’s still a party going on out there,” Louis responds, and Harry falls back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d completely forgot they had company. What had started as a way to re-affirm his own possessiveness over Louis had turned into a worship. He’d spent the last half hour or so with his head so far in the clouds, the music and chatter blended into the background, making room for Louis’ grunts and pants and moans.

Harry sits back up and swings his legs over the bed. “I don’t want to get back into my costume though,” he complains. “But Lou, I don’t want to be a party pooper and not wear something back outside.

Louis’ eyes go bright, and he shuffles back over to the bed where he rifles through the blankets for his own cat ears. After securing them back into place on his head, he goes to their closet, disappearing behind the door.

“Lou?” Harry calls out.

“One mo’, Harry,” he hears in response, slightly muffled from the door.

Louis returns with an identical pair of cat ears in his hands, along with some black clothes draped over his arm.

“Came in a two pack!” He says, and tosses everything over to Harry.

He doesn’t manage to catch any of it, but when he reaches down he finds Louis has grabbed him a pair of lacy pink panties to wear underneath the black jeans and henley for his costume. Somehow, Louis just knows these things. He’s perfect.

Harry gets dressed quickly, only stopping to admire his own arse in the mirror for a few seconds before pulling the jeans on over. Louis lays a hand on his back and smiles at their matching cat ears.

“Lou, why did we not do this in the first place? Couple costumes are all the rage!” He says, because really, he can’t believe he let them dress up in costumes that didn’t go together.

The two return to the living room and are met with wide eyes from the guests still remaining. It seems as though the board games have been broken out; an unfinished game of Catan is on the dining table in the next room, a few dedicated people are halfway through a game of risk on the carpet, and Niall, Liam, Zayn, James and Julia are playing bananagrams on the coffee table.

Harry lets out an excited noise and claps his hands at this; bananagrams is like the combination of his first and second favorite things in the world, scrabble and bananas. Okay, maybe second and third most favorite, he thinks, looking over to the lovely boy standing next to him, arm still around his waist, a fond smile painted on his face.

“Well, shall we join then, love?” His first most favorite thing in the world asks, and he nods in assent.

The two take a seat on the couch as Niall starts shuffling all of the pieces to start a new game. Well, Harry sits, and Louis lays across his lap on his stomach to avoid aggravating his swollen and bruised bum. Ignoring the way the other boys look at him in slight confusion at their positioning, Louis just turns his head slightly and pushes himself up on his arms. He leans over to Harry’s ear, presses a kiss against his cheek, and mutters, “I love you, my kitten.”

Harry’s face reddens in a combination of embarrassment and absolute, total love for his boy. He returns the favor and kisses Louis’ forehead before whispering “Love you too, little kitty.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [here](http://www.happilysunlight.tumblr.com)! Come cry about Larry with me.


End file.
